It Starts
by MusikLuver
Summary: A twopart story involving the upcoming War First part Hermione POV, second part Draco POV. Based in 7th Year, where Hermione contemplates and Draco takes action.
1. Part I

**Pensive**

In terms of a rollercoaster, this upcoming war was at the top of the hill approaching even ground painfully slowly before a sudden drop that would leave people screaming in terror. Hogwarts was divided, but not evenly so. Slytherins rebelled against everyone and everything, feeling the tension and mistrust directed towards them. They knew what Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor whispered about them when they were away.

They were so far gone that not even Snape, for all this terror, could not keep them from lashing out and hissing hateful things. In truth, only half of them – if that – were affiliated with the Dark Lord. And even less than a quarter of _them_ were actually _actively_ involved with his plans. But such misconceptions of their "kind" only caused the other houses to ignore them; which almost ironically pushed the rest towards Voldemort's awaiting arms.

Hermione sat in the common room of the Heads living quarters. In a high-backed royal blue chair next to her, Justin had his knees brought up to his chin and he sat in deep contemplation.

She frowned as she began to drift off as well.

Justin, the kindhearted Hufflepuff former prefect, had been somewhat struggling since they had first come back for Seventh Year. She knew that Dumbledore's original intention had been to place her "enemy" beside her in the seat of power, but with his involvement in the war, was unable to do so. Despite his egotistical, more-satanic-than-thou actions, Draco Malfoy had been born a natural leader. The tasks set before her and Justin would have been much more easily accomplished with the coldhearted Slytherin, because he easily delegated, and he was brilliant – evil, most undoubtedly – but brilliant.

She could not deny it must have been hard for Draco to hear the news, and she just knew on gut instinct that he had stormed around his dark manor, cursing Hufflepuff and Gryffindor alike. The platinum blonde boy had probably muttered angrily to himself about how "so like the batty codger" it was to keep a Slytherin away from something so sacred in the entire school. Hermione knew that he probably had visited his father in Azkaban, angrily relaying the news, and even more angrily thinking how if "Harry-bloody-Potter" hadn't ruined things, his father could complain to the Ministry and set things right. It was simply the way his spoiled brat persona functioned.

But she also knew it must have been even more difficult for Dumbledore to have sent the letter of rejection to the Malfoy boy and send the congratulatory letter to Justin instead. Justin was intelligent and talented, and for the most part, had Hufflepuff in his "control", so to speak. But without Draco, there was just no keeping Slytherin in line; something Dumbledore must have agonized over. In the end, however, it must have won out that Draco would most likely find ways to abuse his position. On the sly, Hermione had been told that with Lucius gone, Draco was now on the right-hand side of the Dark Lord. There was no telling how he would have used his Head Boy position to help out the vast majority of the wizarding world's enemy.

Even Draco must have known that. Even _he_ must've seen it for what it was; not for the injustice he painted it to be. It had nothing to do with his house association or his lack of talents and ability to manage the school alongside her. Simply put, it was just that he couldn't be completely trusted with all the valuable information about the school and its events when with a flick of a hand and a magical pop, Voldemort could know about it and plan attacks and Harry assaults accordingly.

Sometimes Hermione wished it wasn't so complicated, and that there was no such _thing_ as good and evil so she wouldn't have to deal with any of it.

But she knew that such a world could never truly exist.

With all of her vast knowledge, she _also _knew that thinking of her official enemy did more harm than good, and so she stood up and announced to Justin that she would take patrolling duty tonight. With a stroll around the school, perhaps she would be able to clear her head and stop thinking of Draco.

It was just… there was one thought she couldn't stop thinking and mulling over; an irony almost too delicious for words.

…It simply figured that his initials were synonymous to the Dark Mark.


	2. Part II

**The Beginning**

"Slytherins, Slytherins!" Draco roared over the crowd. Almost immediately, they silenced at his voice and turned to listen.

He stood before his house standing on a forest green chair, waving his hands angrily in the air. Once the sought attention had been achieved, he looked around curiously to make sure that the only ones present were the ones _truly _motivated to help the cause. All were accounted for, so he took off the charm on his voice.

Much more quietly now, he relayed the plans; "Our Lord is staging something big. _Massive_. And he has invited us to take part in it. But for you young ones, he has provided directions for your safety.

"Years Four and below are to hide in the deep center of the Forbidden Forest inside a cabin He has built. At the edge of the forest, my mother will be waiting to lead you to it. Do you understand? After you sign your name on this parchment," he finished, brandishing a quill and the aforementioned parchment, "I ask you to leave."

They looked disappointed, to say the least. But in an orderly line, they gave their sloppy signatures and marched out the door until the only ones left were Fifth Years and above.

"The Dark Lord has asked of us something great, which would take great courage. But he has faith in us, and our loyalties. His plan is this: two weeks from now, he and the Death Eaters have staged an attack on Hogwarts. They will raid every single house – including ours. So we must be sure to be waiting by the Astronomy Tower, because all left in the Common Room are to be assumed as traitorous people," Draco informed them, his voice growing steadily louder with hatred. "My job is to fish out Potter before the whole mess with the illusions of another midnight duel. Any stragglers left in the school will be killed on sight."

A quiet murmur rose through the crowd, and he made no effort to stop it. He only interrupted with a "You may leave now, and any questions should be directed to me or Zabini only."

As he stepped down, Pansy was immediately at his side, hooking her arm through his. "Brilliant speech," she cooed, leading them over to the fire. "So is there any other _real _news He has sent through you?" Pansy asked, abruptly pulling her arm out of his.

Draco looked at her with his cold grey eyes and stared harshly for a good minute. After finally deciding she had been helpful enough, he whispered close to her ear, "Lord Voldemort says this is it. This is when he finally breaks into Hogwarts and destroys Dumbledore and Harry for good. He has a secret weapon."

"Well… what _is _it?" she inquired impatiently.

"He hasn't told me yet. He says he won't, but I'll know it when I see it," Draco regretfully replied. There was the faintest feeling of a pang of guilt buried somewhere deep inside of him at the thought of being responsible for the deaths of so many innocents, including that damn Headmaster who deserved none of his pity to begin with. But he brushed off the feeling, because it was easy and he had been taught to ignore all signs of "good". It was weak.

"You did deserve Head Boy," Pansy murmured softly, as if knowing part of his silence was due to his resentment. "And as a friend, with my duty to be honest to you, I know you would have been the best Hogwarts had ever seen. Not to mention, the last."

But as a _Slytherin_, Draco could never know if her "honesty" was really just to get closer to him and uncover more and more of Voldemort's plots for who knew _what _reasons. His cynical thinking never allowed him to truly believe in friendship.

It was this exact train of thought that allowed him to brush off—with ease—the fact that he was signing the death warrants of every non-Slytherin he had ever had friendly encounters with. He knew, that as both a Malfoy and son of a Death Eater, that gossip flew from mouth to mouth and not a single person was left out.

---

During the following two weeks, Draco walked with a rare gleeful strut around Hogwarts. He let every insult, whisper, and obnoxious act roll off his back because he _knew _that in the end, _they'd get theirs_. He especially favored taunting Boy Wonder and his sidekick.

"Do whatever you want Potter, but if I were you, I'd be _careful_," he would finish in singsong.

Harry regarded him with cautiousness and suspicion, something which delighted Draco to no ends. Potty really had _no idea_ what would be his fate. And most assuredly, the Dark Lord would succeed with this surprise attack. From the prophet snippets he had heard, it was "do or die" for Voldemort and Harry... respectively.

It was pleasing. Pleasing to the suspiciously happy Slytherins, and pleasing to The Circle.

Finally, yes _finally_, Dumbledore would get his just reward for passing him over as Head Boy; Harry would learn that to have befriended him First Year would've been the _only way_; Weasley and his equally dirt poor sister would no longer be the bane of the Wizarding World; _Granger_ would meet a humiliating death that was saved for the lowest of their kind; and all those other snobs would find out just how much they had underestimated the "losing side".

Oh yes… they would get theirs.

---

There was screaming. Flashes of colorful lights. There were tears, and blood, and bodies, and wands throwing curses. His favorite curse of all.

_Avadra Kedavra_.

The entire Trio was nowhere to be found so far, and Draco had the sneaking suspicion that Dumbledore had somehow gotten word. But how? Only the _elite _Death Eaters knew of the plan.

_Merlin._ And practically the entire Slytherin House was nowhere to be found! Maybe someone got cold feet last minute?

_I'll kill them with my own bare hands_, Draco growled, clenching his fists and searching around for missing Slytherins.

His plan of meeting for a midnight duel with Potter had fallen through, obviously because he had been informed of the farce. As a result, Voldemort was less than pleased. But Draco was careful to soothe him with the idea that, this way, it was more of a challenge. Challenges were fun, and made victory all the more delicious.

On his search for his traitorous house members, Draco came across Dean Thomas, who was hiding in the corner of a corridor, protecting the littlest Weasley with his body. Sneering, Draco remembered hearing the news of the little brawls Thomas and that idiot Weasley got into over the youngest one. Thomas had made her his playmate.

How cute.

It suddenly struck him how pleasurable it would be to encounter Ron Weasley and tell him of how he had killed his sister. And so, with a lazy _Avada Kedavra_, Dean was no longer an obstacle. Ginny Weasley looked frightened, but put on a brave face. He knew she thought she could get out of this with her Gryffindor courage and a Bat Bogey hex. She thought once she had gotten rid of Draco, she could then grieve for her lost boyfriend.

It was probably the surprise of her life to be under the painful end of a _Crucio_, and just for pleasurable torment, he placed a Bat Bogey hex on her. Just to see how _she _liked it. Draco was having a bit too much fun, which was something he realized as he started losing sight of his original mission. So he put the poor scratched girl out of her misery with the killing curse.

She fell beautifully. Sprawled on top of Dean, her former boyfriend, the pair of them looked almost artistic. Lovers fated for death.

---

Those imbeciles he was pained to call his housemates were _still _waiting up in the Astronomy Tower, with Pansy assuring them they would receive directions soon.

"You fools," Draco hissed, "You've missed an entire _hour _of battle! Most of Hogwarts is dead or being tortured, and you've _missed it_."

He sighed, but motioned with his hand for them to follow him down the stairs. To meet the one man they'd heard so much about. To watch him, once and for all, get rid of Potter.

The greatest moment of their _pathetic_ lives.

* * *

**A/N:** And that's it. I felt that was a good place to leave it, without killing it as I'm not very good at writing war stories. Anyway, I made you all wait for today to get it just so I could say this:

**7 DAYS!**

7 days until you die. Errrrr, I mean, until someone close to Harry Potter dies


End file.
